


the anticipation of joy (is never the same as joy)

by shokubeni



Category: K.A.R.D (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Homesickness, I am sorry because this is sad, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, TaehyunG is shy, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-07 01:05:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11612724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shokubeni/pseuds/shokubeni
Summary: taehyung shouldn't feel homesickness like this, not when his parents are in korea, not when his hardships seem nothing like his groupmates.and taehyung shouldn't get lost in the touches, hugs and words of matthew like he does.but he does anyway.





	the anticipation of joy (is never the same as joy)

**Author's Note:**

> ....i don't know? i wanted to write a small drabble of something fluff but here i am almost 2k words of angst later because... i don't even know.  
>  i am a sucker for these two... they need more attention!

Sometimes, when Taehyun missed his mother _too much_ he felt like the muscles of his throat closed around themselves, and made him unable to breath, but he also felt taken by an incredibly big wave of selfishness. Because, yeah, his mother and him were especially close and he missed coming back home every day to her warm eyes and even warmer arms and her amazing food, but at least, her mother and his entire family, lived in the same country as him.

Matthew's family was still in Los Angeles, a  _fucking_ ocean apart, and the younger was by far one of the most energetic and positive guys Taehyung had met, ever. It made him a little envious of him, how Matthew was so charismatic and effortlessly cool, how it drew everyone's attention and could hold a conversation with  _anyone_ call it their dance instructor, or their CEO or a random trainee, or even the new girls who happened to be their new groupmates. And Taehyung sometimes felt like an accessory, that shy boy trying to get reflected by Matthew's bright light just by standing next to him.

And he was aware Matthew was homesick, too, because if there was something Taehyun was good at, it was reading the  _details,_ the  _little_ things, the things that most of people would take for granted. And he had lived enough time with Matthew for noticing the slight changes in his behaviour, like how Matthew drawl the R's and the S's when he was tired, or sad, or talking to his mother. 

And their apartment was small, and they were always in the orbit of each other, but even if Matthew was just a little less bright than a regular day, taciturn and lost in thoughts, Taehyung just, never dared to ask. It wasn't because they were close, it was because, there was something especially intimate and  _sensitive_ about the matter, and Taehyung never knew which was the best way to talk about it.

Most of the time, he fixed it with a squeeze to Matthew's shoulder and a knowing smile, and they sealed it with some sports videogame Matthew  _always_ tended to win, and that was usually enough for lightning his mood. But sometimes, Taehyung would try, even if his words would get stuck somewhere between his chest and his mouth, trying to speak in that way his hands talked more than the words passing his throat, and Matthew would laugh at him telling him he looked like a dumb goldfish. And at least Matthew was laughing, and that was reason enough for Taehyung to smile too.

Even if it wasn't enough.  
And he knew. 

Because when it was the contrary situation, when Taehyung had a rough day and a dance routine didn't work out the way he had hoped to, and his rapping was stiff and the verses just didn't flow like they had to, and the ramyun they ate for dinner felt  _nothing_ closer to his mother's kimchi stew or even her bibimpab, Taehyung felt like his entire world was crumbling around him, like paper walls in the middle of a summer storm.

And he would call his mother, his knuckles white by how hard he'd holding the phone, and instead of talking about his day, he would ask her about hers. And he would listen with teary eyes and a tight jaw about the market and the couple who lived right in front of them, who were expecting a baby, and some lame joke his father made that day during dinner and Taehyung would get lost in the sound of her voice and the warmth emanating from it even if she was so  _far awa_ y, until she was calling out her name, asking if there was something wrong.

And she probably knew, but Taehyung hurried to shake his head and laugh and tell her he was just fine, a little tired, because practices, and dances, and lyrics and rapping. And when her soft aigo flowed through the line of the phone, he had to bite his lips strong enough for not sobbing into her ear.

They would hang up right after, and it was in moment like those when Matthew would find him. The younger knew something was wrong since the beginning, but it wasn't in his character to leave Taehyung to drown into his misery and his homesickness by himself, even if Taehyung tried, for a split of a second to play a strong role he couldn't maintain, and the tears would start rolling down his cheeks the moment Matthew claimed a sit next to him on his bed.

“I just miss her.” He sobbed through gritted teeth, looking down. And his voice held so many emotions at once, sadness and rage and a little of embarrassment, still holding his phone between his hands as if he was clinging to it for his life.

And even if Matthew was a person who talked,  _a lot_ , during these situations the words weren't needed. Instead, he was always pulled into a warm embrace, different from his mother's but equally comforting, and Taehyung wouldn't hesitate about burying his face in the crook of Matthew's neck, even if he would feel sorry later about ruining his t-shirt with his tears.

But it wasn't never like that, Matthew was always warm and understanding and  _nice_ , so nice about it Taehyung felt the thrumming in his chest just a little tighter, because Matthew was warm and he smelt so nicely and his hands were running down his hair as he was trying to soothe him. And it was bad enough he felt like selfish asshole for being like this, it was bad enough Matthew had to comfort him during his crying, to add to the equation how hard his heart was beating to the perspective of having this  _all the time_ , but in ways he knew he couldn't ask for it.

Unaware of his internal turmoil, Matthew's fingers kept threading through his hair, his mouth dangerously close to his ear, his whispers sending chills all over the way down of Taehyung's spine. “It's all cool, man. Let it out.” He whispered, attentively and encouragingly, and Taehyung had to cling to him closer, tighter, in order to fight against a sob.

Because it didn't feel fair.  
And he felt pathetic.

He tried hard to put his situation in perspective, about the hardships they had to face, Taehyung tried to put his thoughts in Matthew, always so positive and supportive, even if away from his home for five years now, and Somin who had debuted over and over  _and over again_ , but still had a fiery determination and an inner strength Taehyung wished he could inherit, or Jiwoo who was rushed to a debut and a new group so suddenly and yet, being the youngest, she managed to push herself to the top of practices and shine with her own colours.

But there he was, sobbing like a baby in the arms of one of his groupmates because the thought of missing his mother was too overwhelming, because the day was too rough and sometimes, even after the years of never giving up, Taehyung thought this life wasn't for him. In a Co-ed group too, with the uncertainty of things not working out, the perspective of his future being darker than his past had been. Because he wasn't really supposed to feel like this towards a  _groupmate_ , a  _friend_ .

But it was just like that, huddled up against the warm and big body of Matthew, his sobs slowly lowering in number and intensity until they turned into sniffs, and before he was even aware what was going on, he drifted away into an easy, dreamless sleep.

And when Taehyung woke up at the next day, he noticed two things: He had a rampant headache, like million needles insistently poking him between his eyes, and he wasn't sleeping alone. He felt so comfortable and warm, he didn't even think about it at first, and then, he almost felt like his heart was going to come out through his throat, because he was sleeping in his bed, but Matthew's arms were still holding him close.

With widened eyes, Taehyung looked down at him, his heart beating too fast and feeling so nervous his fingertips were trembling. But Matthew looked so calm and so peaceful, with his hair sticking in any direction and half his face buried on the pillow,  _his_ pillow, and his heart skipped a beat again.

He could be there forever, Taehyung decided, staring at him to his heart content,  _even_ touching him if he dared to. And he would store the memories in the darkest corner of his mind, and his heart, further away from the light so he was sure no one could touch it, or come closer to it. So they wouldn't be spoiled.

But, nothing so beautiful lasted for long, and Matthew soon stirred and woke up next to him, and Taehyung tried  _very hard_ to seem like he hadn't been staring. If the younger noticed, he didn't say anything, and instead, he gave him a sleepy smile and the  _friendliest_ of the shoulder's squeeze. “Good morning man, slept well?” 

Even if Matthew asked in English, he was more used than now to his outbursts of his first language to understand, and in the meantime, he tried to step on the butterflies and the heartbeats and everything else, before it was too late. (The problem was, it was already too late.) “Y-Yeah, yeah I did, thanks, man.”

Matthew grinned then, giving him a thumbs up before sitting on the bed again. He acted in a way that this didn't seem extraordinary, or nerve wrecking or plain weird. He acted like he did this often, or worse, like it didn't mean  _anything_ to him, and Taehyung felt his heart dropping to the vicinity of his knees.

That day, from an outsider point of view, was as normal as it could be, and Taehyung wondered if someone could notice his struggle to act like there was nothing different, nothing, even if his eyes would unconsciously move to the mirror during Matthew's solo parts, and they wouldn't move away when he would use the hem of his t-shirt to remove some sweat from his shirt, and he would fail to listen to whatever Jiwoo was asking him.

Taehyung just tried very hard, and it worked, at least, for a while. They would go for routines and they would take the girls out to eat, talking excitedly about world tours and videos and debuts in Korea, and Taehyung was just happy like that. In a group he finally found a place to be, even if his heart tilted to a side he wasn't supposed to sway by.

But then some nights would come, with anxious thoughts and tears and homesickness, and there was this habit of Matthew's arms around him, his words reaching him, his hands touching him, supporting him and comforting him  _like a friend_ , and Taehyung would easily sleep in his arms, and at the next day, it would be as if nothing had happened. As nothing had changed, no matter how hard Taehyung's heart craved for something he couldn't have.

And the more and more it happened, the more it felt like a stab in his chest more than healing.

 


End file.
